


Terror

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Fictober 2019 [16]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s06e26-s07e01 Descent Parts 1-2, F/M, Light Angst, an alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: The aftermath of Lore
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Series: Fictober 2019 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540126
Kudos: 22





	Terror

**Author's Note:**

> For fictober day sixteen: “Listen. No, really listen.”

“Hey.”

Data did not startle. He had been aware of her presence in the doorway for 1 minute 12 seconds now, and his systems had been in a state of tension the entire time. He did not meet her eyes. He did not even put down his paintbrush. “If I am needed-“

“Data.” She crossed the room, stopping in front of him, just to the right of his canvas and reaching out. Her fingers closed around air as Data took two steps back. “Data, look at me.”

Slowly, he lifted his gaze, taking in her concerned expression. His hand trembled, and he tightened it, then winced at the sound of snapping. He uncurled his fist and stared at the pieces.

Tasha bridged the distance with another step, lifting the two halves of the paintbrush from his palm and setting them aside. She cupped his hand, still frozen in place, between her own, squeezing his fingers closed and holding it. “How long are you going to do this to yourself?”

“I am not-“

“You’re punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

“_Tasha_.” Data’s voice broke, and they both paused. He swallowed. His programs had been adapted many times, both automatically and by his own design, but the human mannerisms he’d been incorporating had been increasing in frequency and accuracy as of late. Data shuddered to think why, and then hated himself for being capable of shuddering as an involuntary reaction. He tried again, and his voice returned almost to its normal cadence. “What I did was not morally acceptable. I cannot reconcile those actions with my desire to view myself as a good person, and I do not believe that anyone else should attempt to do so either.”

“You were being controlled. Your morality programming was turned off.”

Data shook his head. “That does not justify my actions. I made those choice. I…chose to hurt the people I care about, solely for emotional gratification.” Disgust crept into his voice and he closed his eyes as if that could ward against it. “I deserve to be court-martialed.”

“No one’s going to court-martial you, Data.”

“I know.” Data opened his eyes and turned away from Tasha, examining his painting supplies, spread out on the table beside him. There were other paintbrush fragments, and smudges of color bleeding into one another where he’d pressed too hard on the palate. He picked up one of the brushes that was still whole, rotating it between his fingers.

“So that’s why you’ve locked yourself in here?” Tasha crossed her arms, lifting her chin. Data had long admired the strength of that look, the defiance, even when leveled at him. He did not appreciate it now.

“It is acceptable to remove an officer from duty-“ he began.

“Bullshit,” Tasha interrupted him. “You’re scared.”

“Yes.” Data lifted his head, suddenly enough that even in her anger, Tasha looked taken aback. He matched her defiant look with one of his own, not quite a mirror, a softer set to his jaw, a greater tilt to his head, but just as resolute. “I am scared. That is the point, Tasha. That I can _be _scared. Just as I can be angry, or cruel, or hateful. That…” he stuttered over the words, “that I can hurt you.”

“You think you couldn’t before?” Something in Tasha’s face softened, and she took Data by the elbows, pulling him in so that their foreheads were almost touching. She stroked his arm, fingers trailing over the fabric of his uniform, smoothing out the creases. “Sometimes ambivalence hurts just as much as hatred.”

Data closed the distance, relishing the simple pleasure of having his forehead pressed to hers, his throat thick and bitter at the indulgence. “I wanted to love you.”

“You did. In the only way you knew how. And it was enough.” Tasha cupped his cheek, forcing Data to meet her eyes. “Listen.” When Data tried to turn away, she tightened her grip. “No, really listen to me. You’re not a bad person, Data. You think I haven’t done stuff I’m not proud of? Hurt people I loved? My sister?”

“I liked it.”

“And without a conscious, I’m sure I would have too.” Tasha took a breath. “Do you feel guilty now?”

Data hesitated, and then nodded.

“Then that’s enough.”

“How can it be?” Data straightened, but he did not pull out of her embrace. “How can you, or Geordi, or Captain Picard look me in the eye again without remembering what I did?”

Tasha smiled kindly. “We’ll remember. Not just what you did, but how scared we were. Not just for ourselves, but for you.”

“For…me?”

She nodded. “I was so scared that whatever was happening to you was taking control, that the man I loved was gone. But you’re not, Data. You’re still here.”

Data took a breath, and then let it out. It shook slightly. Carefully, he set aside the paintbrush. “I do love you, Tasha.”

“I know.” She stretched up, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips. Data did not reciprocate it. He was not there quite yet. But neither did he pull away. Tasha drew back and squeezed his arm. “Take as long as you need to process all this. I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

Data nodded, and Tasha left the room. He watched her go, then sat back, observing his efforts. He’d been using the same canvas for days now, painting over each consecutive picture, layer upon layer of pigment obscuring each image even as it revealed another. Currently, it was a shattered mirror.

Data picked up his paintbrush again, dipped it in the black, and began anew.


End file.
